Cooking with Alfred
by SuomenNeito
Summary: Sequel to Cooking with Arthur. England has caught America's economic cold! After receiving a mysterious phone call, he decides it's time for a Hero to take action! Fluffy. Done as a request from Danissy. : Read and Review!


Disclaimer:: Hetalia does not belong to moi. Neither does Monsters versus Aliens. :B

AN:: I said I'd do requests, right? :'P This is for you, Danissy. xD

Oh, by the way... Writing fanfictions is a great way to pass the time while you're waiting for an MMORPG to download. 8D I'm also waiting for spaghetti to finish cooking. :'P Yes, I'm telling you this because you actually care. :) Please read and review, KTHX?! *Loves*

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It was a beautiful morning in the United Kingdom. The smell after a light morning rain still lingered in the air, and the dew was still shimmering on the grass. The sky was nice; a crystal blue color, the white puffs clouds were laying lazily on their backs, oblivious to the world underneath them.

Two fairies danced around each other, giggling happily. The green fairy slipped under a door at a familiar house, slipping his hand back out for his pink companion. She giggled gratefully, and the two floated into the kitchen. "Arthur?" The petite female called, while the male lifted foil off of a plate to see some burnt scones. "He's not here." He determined, his eyebrows furrowed. Arthur was always in the kitchen in the morning. They had been hoping he would make them a treat.

The two faires fell on the floor in shock when they heard a racking cough from the upstairs. The male shook his little green head, and speckles of fairy dust glittered to the floor. "That doesn't sound good at all!" The pink fairy pouted, jumping off from the floor, her wings fluttering like a humming bird. "We should go check on England and see if he's okay." The male agreed, and the two of them zoomed up the stairs.

Arthur Kirkland looked like a train wreck. The small trash can by his bed was filled with tissues, and his nose was terribly red. There were dark bags under his eyes, and his face was completely flushed with fever. The fairies gasped at the horrendous sight. "Ooooh, poor Arthur!" The female cooed, plopping herself down on the pillow beside that man's head. The green fairy landed on the bedside table.

"Is there anything we can do for you, England?" He offered as the eyes of the old nation fluttered open.

"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm perfectly--" He coughed again, clutching his throat at the pain. "Uh... I'm okay you two. I'm so pleased you came to see me though, it means a lot." England smiled at the two fairies. He could have sworn the pink one turned red for a moment.

"N-No you're not! We have to call someone!" The female joined the male on the desk, and the two of them together pulled open the cell phone and hit the first person on the contact list.

***

Alfred F. Jones was sitting in his home, sipping coffee from his 'HERO' mug, watching _Monsters versus Aliens_ with his favorite alien friend. "You know, the president is pretty cool. I should ask my boss about getting a latte button like that." He commented, thinking of the button he had the launched every nuclear weapon he owned. That had a cool design. He could totally see a latte button looking like that.

His cell started to buzz in his pocket, and he frowned, pausing the movie. "I swear, if this is France again, I'll go press that button right--" He cut off. The caller ID said 'Arty'. America smiled and answered. He would be able to thank England for taking care of him when he was sick a few months back. He had forgotten all about it, but he was actually feeling much better. There was still a lingering cough, but nothing more.

"What's up my homie?"

The person at the end of the line was silent.

"Take a joke, Arthur. I don't really talk like that. Anyway, I want to thank you for before. It was really cool of you to-- Arty?"

America shook the phone, trying to get the sound to come out. Arthur wasn't saying anything. What if he was in trouble? He could be being attacked right now! A hero doesn't let his friends get hurt! Whoever was assaulting his Arthur was going to have hell to pay!

"Tony, find the remote and pause the movie! I'm gonna go save England!"

***

The two faires stared at the now silent phone.

"What was that all about?"

"Don't worry you two. America is _always_ like that." Arthur rolled his eyes. What a git. Why did he have to be so enthusiatic and unthinking about everything? He certainly didn't raise him to be like that. Perhaps it was because he was not truly his blood, and did not inherit the genes of a true gentleman. Ah, the world would never know why America was like he was.

BANG.

The two fairies fell over on the bedside table again. England shot up straight, and instantly regretting it, he laid back down in a coughing fit. A familiar obnoxious voice filled the house.

"IGGY? Are you okay? I'm here to save you!"

Arthur prayed that the younger nation had not broken down his door again as the fairies regained their balance. Pounding could be heard along with squishing noises, signaling that America was now running up his clean carpet stairs, probably tracking in mud on his filthy boots. The blond swung open the door, and England winced. The harsh sound made his head throb. "Alfred you--!"

"Who did this to you? I'll make them wish they had never even seen nuclear weapons!" America cried, running to the bedside of his companion. He slammed his hand down on the night stand, and unknowingly sent the fairies flying.

"America you bloody wanker! You did! Your economy effected mine, and I caught your cold!" England scolded the other nation, who was now pouting. "And do be careful! You could have killed them!" America looked to where England was gesturing to see nothing but a nightstand. Apparently Arthur had his cold much worse than he did if he was hallucinating.

"Okay Arty, I'll be careful. You need to get better, though. You helped me, and now it's my turn to help you." His voice was softer now, with concern, and much less obnoxious then it was a few seconds ago. Arthur's cheeks warmed up a bit more, though not from the fever. Thoughts of their last encounter came back to him, laying on the couch, kissing his hair while the cake burned. Well, the cake didn't really burn. It was still really good. England knew he was a great cook.

"I-I'm fine Alfred, really." Arthur said quietly, looking up into those beautiful ocean blue eyes.

"Aaaaw!" The pink fairy cooed. The green fairy just shook his head and glared at the blond that had unwittingly attacked him earlier.

"No, you're not! I'm going to go make you something to eat, okay? You stay right here and don't move!" America ordered, turning to run out of the room. England rolled his eyes once more. "As if _I could _move. Vexis, Aen, could you two make sure he doesn't poison me with his terrible cooking abilities?" The pink and green fairy nodded, and took off after the young nation. "I sure hope he doesn't put us in the microwave." The male mused, following the female down the stairs and into the kitchen.

***

America stood in the middle of England's kitchen and pouted. He didn't have _anything_ instant in here. He didn't know how to cook actual food! He opened up the pantry and the fridge and started rummaging through the ingredients. "Hmm... I can't let England die up there. I guess I'll just have to use the hero skills I have to make something delicious!" He vaguely wondered how cool it would be to have meat vision.

"Well, I guess I'm going to have to make some kind of soup. That's healthy, right? I think... Uhmm.. What's his name told me that leeks were pretty healthy when I was sick. Why can't I ever remember his name? I think he's my brother." America spoke to himself, unaware of the fairies fluttering by his head. "Eh. Oh well. I don't even know what a leek looks like."

"We'd better help him, or he'll probably wind up killing Arthur." The green fairy sighed, slapping his face with his palm. "Arty got a recipe book from France last Christmas, remember? He was really offended so he threw it in the back of the cupboard." The pink fairy offered, motioning to the open pantry. "Okay, let's do this." The two fluttered to the pantry, down to the bottom shelf. Sure enough, it was jammed back there carelessly. The title on the book read,"Cooking for the Culinarily Impared." The green fairy giggled, but the pink fairy pouted. "That's not very nice. I think England is a master chef! Just like with his embroidery!"

The two bickered over the frivolous topic while trying to lift the book over the bags of groceries. Even with the use of fairy magic, the book was very big, and it was hard to push and pull. The book eventually fell out of the pantry and onto the floor, causing America to whip around to look.

"Oh! A cook book! I could use this." He smiled, picking up the book and flipping through it. "Soups, soups, soups... Ah-hah!" He cried in triumph, finding a recipe that looked fairly simple.

The fairies sighed in relief, both of them falling over panting on the kitchen counter. America plopped the book down, dangerously close to the green fairies head, and started reading;

"Chop 1 onion, 1 celery stalk, 2 carrots and 1 tablespoon thyme; sauté in butter until tender. Season with salt and pepper. Add 6 cups chicken broth; simmer 20 minutes. Add 2 cups shredded cooked chicken, 1/3 cup mixed chopped dill and parsley, and some lemon juice. Ew." Alfred smiled. He would just replace some of the ingredients with his own ideas to make it taste better! That's what England does, after all.

"Celery is nasty. I think I'll replace it with chocolate!" America said happily, going back to the refridgerator. The green fairy groaned. "Is he serious?" The pink one giggled. "I think it's a good i-"

"No, Vexis. That's a _bad_ idea. Let's get rid of the chocolate when he's not looking, and fix the celery ourselves." The pink fairy whined, but the green fairies words were final. As good as chocolate was, it did not belong in chicken soup.

***

After about an hour of switching ingredients, sneaking around and changing the way things were being "cooked", and disposing of every last bit of ketchup before the childish nation could get his hands on it, the faries were exhausted, and the soup was done. America looked at his finished product and smiled his cheesiest smile. "England will love it! I can't wait to give it to him. I bet it's fantastic! After all, my awesome hands were the ones that made this masterpiece!"

Two small groans came from the kitchen counter, but America did not hear it. He poured the soup in a bowl and ran up the stairs to go see the sick nation.

The familiar pounding came back, only causing England's headache to ache in reply. He groggily rubbed his eyes and looked up as America kicked the door open. "W-what was that for you wanker!" Arthur tried to yell, but his voise was hoarse, so it only sounded like a tired old man.

"Look! I made you soup Arty!" America cooed, sitting on the bed beside England. "Now I can feed you, so open up Sicky!" England blushed. America was going to _feed_ him. It was like how all those dirty fanfictions Kiku made started out, only it wasn't usually something like soup. Arthur opened his mouth as instructed, and Alfred blew on the soup like a concerned parent that didn't want their baby to burn their precious tongue. England appreciated it, imagining the things he could do with America with a tongue that wasn't burnt.

Much to the older nation's surprise, the soup did not taste bad at all. Not as good as his soup, of course, but very good. He was happy that he could enjoy the service and enjoy the meal at the same time. "Where did you learn to cook, Alfred?"

"You, of course! Who else?" America set the bowl aside and pinched England's cheek. "My cooking is way better. Who looks like the little brother, now?" Arthur growled, his mouth full of chicken soup. He swallowed and reached up for Alfred's collar. Alfred laughed. "What are you going to do, hit-- mmmm...?" The younger nation was silenced by the lips of the other suddenly pressed upon his own. His eyes widened, but in a matter of seconds, they fluttered closed.

America put his arms around England's neck and lied on top of him, swinging one leg over the older nation. He could feel England's tongue flicker against his lips, and he gratefully allowed entry. For a sick old man, Arthur sure seemed eager. He did not hesitate to explore every part of the inside of his ex-colony's mouth absorbing the taste; a mixture of grassy plains and coffee. A stifled sound came from America, and England's heart beat faster in his chest, threatening to pop right out of him.

The two broke off for air, exhanging a couple of short, wet kisses. America was ready for more, getting closer, but England put his hand over his mouth and started coughing. The younger blond sighed, picking up the bowl of soup. "And here I thought you were going to fulfill your promise, but apparently you're just as sick as I was!"

"What promise?" England sighed, rubbing his temples. His head was starting to ache again, and his body felt unnaturally cold without America laying on top of him, not that he would admit it.

"You told me next time, when we got better. Remember? On the couch?" America pinch England's cheek again playfully. England swatted his hand away. "I remember," He flushed, grabbing the hand that he had swatted away and laced their fingers together. "Next time, when we both feel better." America was dissappointed, but he understood. He kissed the calused hand he held in his own. They were small compared to his.

"I'm holding you to that, Arty. Next time I see you, your vital regions are all mine."

"I don't think so?"

"What do you mean 'you don't think so'? Didn't you just say--"

"I believe your vital regions will be mine, Alfred." England said quietly, running his fingers through America's hair. "Pffft. As if, man."

"I guess we will see when the time comes."

"Yeah, whatever."

England rolled his eyes and tugged on America's shirt collar, allowing him to lay beside him. America put his arm around the other, and laid his head on the other nation's chest. "I love you, Arty."

"I love you too, you bloody wanker."

***

"Well I'm glad that's over." The green fairy said to his female companion. She hummed happily in agreement, and the two slipped out from under the door and out into the beautiful morning air.

Suddenly, a blue orb came flying rapidly toward them, and they gasped; it was another fairy.

The blue fairy stopped beside them, his hair messed up as if he'd been pulling it out. "Y-You've got to help me!"

"What's wrong?" The female asked, tilting her head to the side.

"I-It's Scotland and I-Ireland! T-they're at the bar and they nee--"

"No!" The two squeeled, and flew in the opposite direction as fast as their little wings could take them.

The blue fairy pouted, in both dissappointment and confusion.

Was it something he said?

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AN:: Eh, I thought the ending was cute. Please review~! KTHX?


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